


The Great Escape

by Calesvol



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, Prompt Fill, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 01:46:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13602987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calesvol/pseuds/Calesvol
Summary: Based on this FFXVkinkmemefill, Noctis is captured after Ardyn Izunia saves the Chocobros from the wrathful aftermath of Titan's trail. Separated and brought to Zegnautus Keep, it's only by Ravus claiming him as a personal servant that Noctis is able to escape his fearful experience for good.





	The Great Escape

( **Warning(s)** : M, implied abuse, some sexual content)

* * *

 

It was dark when Noctis awoke, bleary-eyed and encrusted with the thick film of sleep that only exhausting circumstances could’ve been the culprit of. Hard and cold concrete summoned a shiver to his skin, his overcoat and boots having been forcefully removed. Noctis’ body smarted where a mailed fist had dealt a scathing blow to it, remembering Ardyn’s smug expression after his friends had been tranquilized following Titan’s trial and left somewhere he didn’t know. The Chancellor had taken a particularly wicked glee in the prince’s suffering and Noctis could only imagine why.

 

Curling his legs under him with a pained grunt as he straightened enough to sit, Noctis blinked owlishly. As expected, it was almost completely dark in his cell, barely the size of a Chocobo stable. A ramrod straight shelf was just large enough to accommodate the size of a man while a sink and toilet hybridization provided all else.

 

It was dark otherwise. Sans the blinking pulsations of cold blue lights that lined the catwalks outside the cell block, there was no real way of seeing in the dark as his lapel flashlight had been taken with his jacket. Slouching as he sat cross-legged, Noctis contemplated sleeping on the sorry excuse of a bed before the iron resonance of sabatons on the catwalk’s grating caused the prince to freeze up, then craning over his shoulder when a shadow loomed at the threshold of his cell.

 

“You’ve been summoned, prisoner,” the warden announced, banging his nightstick on the bars clangorously. “Come on! I don’t have time to deal with some spoiled little shit.”

 

Noctis’ brows furrowed suspiciously, glowering at the taller man. “Mind if I ask _why_ I’m being summoned all of a sudden?” he demanded with folded arms, a patter in his breast fearing Ardyn Izunia had something to do with this. With the Wallbreaker Wave encompassing the Keep, he didn’t want to have to face that dangerous man.

 

The silhouetted, anonymous warden scoffed derisively. “High Commander Fleuret issued a memo. Seems to be you’re going to be his personal servant. Or some shit like that. That ought’a be entertaining,” the man responded with a predatory flash of his teeth.

 

Wait, Ravus wanted him to…? Every worst case scenario rattled off in his skull, wondering what torment the Tenebraen had personally devised. Even if he had been en route to play his part in the puppet theater of an arranged wedding, a wide gulf of time existed between then and now. And Altissia had looked to be faraway enough to begin with.

 

Still in shock from anticipation, wordlessly did he compliantly turn his back towards the bars and wait to be cuffed at the slotted space in the barred ingress. Roughly was Noctis herded through and the cell door slammed behind him.

 

He couldn’t help but notice the emptiness of many of the cells, even if he remembered where they were and what had likely become of those prisoners. Would that have been his fate had this not occurred? Noctis was jostled from his staring, the chain that locked the span between both metal cuffs roughly jerked forwards like he was some stalling canine on a walk.

 

Before long, the cold, impersonal metal of the cell block gave way to nearly personable stark white halls like a hotel he could only assume was the quarters of higher-ranked officers in Niflheim’s army. There was no distinction between rooms except their room numbers, Noctis keeping track of distinct ones should something happen and an escape be necessary. Committing what he could to memory, he was suddenly stopped short to a door at the very end of the hall that seemed to occupy its own wing. Easily denoting that someone of a high rank resided here.

 

The warden shoved Noctis aside so he could rap his knuckles on the door, the prince perking when he heard footsteps approach. The young man was taken aback when Ravus himself opened the door, averting his eyes while mismatched ones engaged the warden instead of this veritable prisoner. “Leave the boy’s leash with me, warden. You may return to your post,” came Ravus’ sharp command, the warden suddenly a picture of decorum as he complied and filed away with a straight back. The chain in Ravus’ clutches, Noctis could feel that heated glare rake over his person.

 

Yanked roughly inside, Ravus stepped aside while Noctis comically tripped over the carpet and rolled clumsily inside, the Commander closing the door soundly behind him. Flushing indignantly, he recomposed himself on his feet and shot the older man a venomous stare. “What the hell, Ravus?! The hell is with this ‘personal servant’ bullshit?”

 

Instead of answering, Ravus slammed Noctis into the wall, crushing his ribs into the alabaster and nearly denting it from the force applied, forcefully turned so he could only see Ravus in profile. Wincing and cracking an eye open, he saw that the Tenebraen’s countenance wasn’t as twisted by rage as he thought it’d be.

 

“You truly are an imbecile,” he snapped haughtily, gaze then lowering to the cuffs. His clawed hand pinned Noctis easily by the small of his back, working easily as he produced a key from his lapel pocket and easily uncuffed him, the shackles falling to the floor and the pressure on his back alleviated. The younger sagged with a tense exhalation, flicking his gaze suspiciously to Ravus.

 

Quirking a brow, Noctis asked, “Why now? Why this?” in disbelief.

 

Ravus looked enigmatic for a moment, thoughtful. A palm crossed over to the embossed insignia of the Fleuret house as he covered it, lips thinning. “I have not been deaf to what my sister has said all these years of you, Caelum. Of the folly behind my grudge.” He could feel Noctis’ weighty, wary stare on him. “Of your place in the prophecy that is her hope. You being alive is a great part of her happiness, Noctis.”

 

Hearing his name in anything other than a condescending tone mollified him, for now, but it didn’t totally placate him. “So, Luna’s the only reason you saved my ass?” he summarized bluntly, Ravus scoffing.

 

“Do not think my actions stem from a personal fondness, you fool. You have far to go before I’ll ever see you beyond the spoiled whelp of a cowardly king who left our mother and ourselves for dead.”

 

Those stormy blues bored into him harder, Ravus canting his head expectantly. Noctis came closer, invading his personal space as if it would intimidate him. “It was one man against an entire army, Ravus. The odds of him making him out alive and taking out Glauca—they were low. Unless you forgot how he killed dad pretty recently.”

 

“He besmirched the alliance between our houses, and left my sister and I to suffer under their heel. Or was this omitted from your history lessons as to protect your _innocence_?” Ravus spat back, the tension between them caustic. He snorted again, then seizing one of Noctis’ wrists in a vice and raising it before the younger prince could protest the motion.

 

“The hell are you—“

 

“A servant of the Fleuret household would do our repute ill bearing such injuries. There’s no propriety in an openly abused retainer,” Ravus observed, but even Noctis could tell the ghost of a smile on his lips was sarcastic. “My bed, Caelum. Sit at the edge, and that’s not a request.”

 

Mystified, Noctis wrenched his arm free and did as told, not realizing the extent of his injuries until he sat upon the stiff mattress and winced from contact. Still, he was compliant enough. Ravus joined his side soon enough, weight sagging into the mattress deeper. An air of quiescence settled over them as the older man wordlessly indicated to remove his shirt, Noctis doing so self-consciously. He knew how skinny he was compared to tanks like Ravus and Gladio.

 

Ravus said nothing at the myriad bruises and raw welts littering Noctis’ back like a spoiled canvas stretched over the weary bones of the prince’s body. His mother, in her times healing, had often said the body said what words never could. Though he wasn’t Oracle—for obvious reasons—those of Fleuret blood still bore latent healing abilities. Even if his weren’t nearly on par as his sister’s.

 

“They beat you,” he observed at first, human hand ghosting over the tender bruises on his side. “With mailed gauntlets, no less. With claws—an MT make. Marking your flesh.” Noctis’ back slouched, Ravus surprisingly quiet on that regard, even if this did breed some nostalgia. Sylva had done the same when he’d been healed. Or, before he had. “They threw you. Into that cell. Hmph, how barbaric. To lay their hands on royal blood in such a fashion.”

 

Noctis grew quiet for a moment, almost guffawing despite the pain it incurred. “You’re not making me your servant, are you?” he said finally, angling his head some over his shoulder in spite of the pain.

 

Ravus never lifted his eyes from his inspections. “No, of course not. It would be a cold day in hell before I aspired to have someone so wildly incompetent as my servant. As I would have no intention of teaching you.”

 

“What, never considered how humiliating it would be? I know Ardyn would get a kick out of me breaking the fine china and tripping over my two left feet. Thought you’d feel the same.” Noctis hissed when he felt Ravus’ hands press on his back, involuntarily straightening his spine from reflex.

 

Gradually, the pain seemed to be subsiding, the points of contact curiously radiant with warmth that suffused the whole of his back. “Do not conflate what that bastard and I view as vindicating as one and the same,” Ravus replied tersely, loftily, sniffing disdainfully.

 

Noctis only snorted. “Whatever you say, Lord Ravus,” he rejoined patronizingly.

 

Finished with his back, Noctis was surprised by how much looser and fluid and whole he felt. He rotated his arms, pleased to find the soreness ebbing away. Though, that still left his chest to be tended to.

 

A strange lull settled over them when Ravus splayed his palms on the younger’s chest, Noctis feeling a heat that had nothing to do with the healing. He bowed his head as this succession of bruises and welts heated and healed, the contact culminating in a flush that didn’t go unnoticed by the Commander. The heat throbbed in his skull until his hazy rapture was broken by Ravus curling his claw to prop beneath Noctis’ jaw, thumb grazing his lip. No question sprung to either of their lips, except that it was growing energetically warm between them, shared. The Commander’s eyes were dilated wide, and Noctis somehow knew his were, too.

 

What was only a chaste, experimental kiss on Ravus’ behalf snapped a chord of desire he didn’t know was wound so taut in the younger. Noctis grabbed the sides of Ravus’ face and lunged for him, straddling the man’s lap if by instinct while Ravus’ arms wound tightly around his waist. The older man growled in the fierce succession of kisses and ground his waking hardness into Noctis’ groin, causing the Lucian’s head to loll back while Ravus attacked it with bites that would surely bruise.

 

That was until Ravus entertained being straddled no longer and pinned Noctis with a rough slam while the mattress creaked in protest. The younger moaned from it, a blush intensifying at how wanton he knew he sounded. “The prince of Lucis, so easily undone? How shameless,” Ravus chided despite the undercurrent of lust in his voice, snaring Noctis around his neck by his teeth. Noctis arched when he tasted a glimpse of Ravus’ body pressed to his own, drunk on how soft and solid it felt. It was enough that he cinched his arms around Ravus’ neck and legs around his waist, even if the belt clipped into his skin, he was too aroused to care.

 

Would it be they could truly draw this out. They could be interrupted at any time, and it was far easier to untangle themselves with their pants on than try to explain away an inappropriate sexual escapade.

 

Ravus seemed aware of it too as he ground particularly hard against Noctis, thrusting his hips so the Lucian could particularly insensate what he was missing through Ravus’ trousers. “Sh… Shut up,” Noctis managed, fighting back another moan before Ravus covered his lips with his own.

 

It wasn’t long until Ravus’ rocking seemed to slow and Noctis threw his head back, clawing into Ravus’ back with blunted nails as he climaxed rigidly into the male. Cumming while clothed wasn’t his favorite way of doing it, but something told him they both needed it.

 

Ravus was quieter with his, panting hotly into Noctis’ neck while the other uncrossed his legs and let Ravus continue to lay between them, both quietly relishing in the quiet and sensation of each other’s bodies. He collapsed into Noctis after, the Lucian chuckling hoarsely as fingers carded through silvery locks.

 

“Gonna fuckin’ kill you for this. I can’t change my clothes, unlike you,” Noctis groused playfully, the resentment not entirely there.

 

Ravus smirked devilishly as he keenly set his sights lower, almost vindictively nibbling on Noctis’ exposed nipple while the other arched into it, scrapping his nails through Ravus’ scalp. “Hm, I believe I prefer you like this, Noctis. Perhaps you could be of some use to me this way,” he insinuated huskily, nibbling on the shell of Noctis’ ear.

 

Another blush heated him, Noctis’ eyelids fluttering until the warm wake of the post-orgasm high wore off and they lay in silence before Ravus reluctantly peeled himself from Noctis’ barely perspiring chest, tugging down his canvas jacket snugly despite the glaring stickiness in his pants. Coughing into his hand, Noctis curiously watched his confidence crumble into unexpected shyness, gesturing aloofly to a dresser. “Get changed. I have underwear and clothing from my formative years that should fit you well enough. Once we’ve straightened up, we leave. Commodore Highwind has seen to our transport.”

 

Noctis shot up from the bed, staring at the back of Ravus’ head incredulously. “You serious?”

 

Ravus inclined his head towards Noctis somewhat, fixing him with the beginnings of a glare. “Must I repeat myself or will you cease being doltish enough to listen for once?”

 

Huffing indignantly, Noctis began leafing through Ravus’ old clothes. “Yeah, yeah. Heard you the first time, sheesh.”

 

In his periphery, he swore he saw the other smile in amusement.

* * *

 

“Pity we can’t stick around to see the wedding. I hear it’s supposed to be real spectacular.”

 

In the din of Aranea’s airship’s dying engines, the words caught Noctis’ attentions. Dressed in an old dress shirt and slacks, he supposed he looked presentable enough to meet Luna when the time came. “They not letting you stay or something?”

 

“Yup. The higher up’s would rather have us play whack-a-mole with a bunch of Lucian rebel groups across the pond. You know how it is, kid,” Aranea said with a cocked hip, malachite eyes meeting Noctis’.

 

“Yeah, guess you’re right,” Noctis acceded before he saw Ravus exit the gangway of the airship, gesturing for him. “Anyway, be seeing you.”

 

“You, too. Don’t get yourself killed before you can get hitched, alright?” Aranea simpered back him, returning to the airship’s bay and leaving Noctis to hurry to Ravus’ side as it lifted away.

 

Ravus was silent as he led Noctis from the higher echelons of the city to the lower districts, people spacing aside from them despite the relatively warm reception the Commander received. Some women gossiped about what they assumed was his aide-de-camp, none suspecting he was Lucis’ long-lost prince come to fulfill another leg of his destiny.

 

In the lower districts where the ports and harbor were located, it was at a secret rendezvous point that he finally saw Lunafreya with Gentiana, Noctis dashing over to the blonde and engulfing her in a hug. “Man, it’s been too long,” he said as they parted, the woman smiling dazzlingly. She still smelled so good. “Are you alright, Luna?”

 

“Yes, Noctis, I’m quite fine, thank you. Sir Ulric saw me here quite recently, though I think he’s ready to depart,” Luna said with a slight giggle, seeing Nyx wave at the couple. However, her face fell when she peeked over Noctis’ shoulder to Ravus. “Ravus, are you coming?”

 

Noctis turned to look at Ravus with her, the man’s face hardened. “I cannot, sister. I’m afraid I must draw their attention and keep them occupied while you both make your escape. See to it that they make it to Lucis safely, Glaive,” he added sharply to Ulric who only snorted at him.

 

While Luna, Gentiana, and Nyx boarded what appeared to be his father’s yacht, as the engines revved did Noctis linger behind. “You’re not coming?” he broached, folding his arms at him.

 

Ravus’ determined expression faltered, grim as he drew closer to Noctis. “Didn’t you hear? I must remain to keep them occupied while you make your escape. Your father’s steward contacted your friends and they await you at Cape Caem, unless you’d keep them waiting for longer than necessary.”

 

Noctis unfolded his arms, gravitating closer himself. “Yeah, well, you’d better live. Who else is gonna beat some sense into you after everything you’re wrong about?”

 

The older man gave him a soft smile, shaking his head. It seemed as though some things would never change. Inexorably, he gripped Noctis by the collar and kissed him soundly on his lips, before the prince had the chance to kiss him back. “Train until then. I have no desire to be brow-beaten by a weakling. Is that understood, Caelum?”

 

Noctis was pushed away by Ravus, the older man gazing intently on the younger. “You too, old man. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

 

With a parting smile, Ravus disappeared into the throngs of people, leaving Noctis to board his ship and finally return home.


End file.
